TDVtM: Infiltration
by theblondeknight45
Summary: Wawanakwa, Ontario is a growing hub for the Kindred community, but it is also untamed. A shocking report comes to ears in high places. In order to address this, the Camarilla deploy an agent to set things straight and introduce a bit of order. His mission starts simple enough but Alejandro soon finds he may have bitten off a little more than he expected. What's a vampire to do?
1. Chapter 1

**Greetings Kindred and Kine alike. I've had this one bouncing around my head for a little while, and given the recent exciting news, figured now was the time to post it. I don't have everything worked out, but I thought Total Drama was a really good crossover for Vampire the Masquerade. **

**Fair warning, the only real exposure I have with the World of Darkness has been my playthroughs of VtMB. My first time was a Venture, hence the way I've framed the story. Still, I am oblivious to a lot of stuff, and I am bending certain rules and maybe even taking a few people a little OOC. I'm trying to merge the worlds together in a way that doesn't mess either up too badly, but in some cases I just need to make things a bit more flexible, you know? So anyways, unless it was in the game or readily accessible on the White Wolf wiki, don't expect me to know my stuff too well for the Vampire side!**

**Reviews are appreciated, and help me write more. :) Enjoy!**

* * *

The proof of their guilt lined every hallway and was plastered on every entrance of the facility.

Ezekiel Rumford, 17 years old, had been missing for eight days. Last seen in the woods between his family's cabin near the lake and the outskirts of town, all that had yet been found of him was a mangled shoe near the stream. His first year in public school had been cut abruptly short, and his disappearance was attracting media attention from across the province.

An online campaign had been started by community members to support his family and lend any aide to the police that could be given. Posters and tributes had been set up all over the school. The magnifying glass was all over and around Wawanakwa High School.

So began his second day at this school, as Alejandro walked through the big open gate that marked school grounds. His job was twofold: One, to make sure that Ezekiel was never found, and two, to punish those who had caused this mess.

His partner, the mainstay Ventrue at this school, Courtney, greeted him with a kiss on the lips. It was hardly up to protocol, but the illusion of normalcy had to be maintained. Who was this sudden transfer student? Just a cool kid from Mexico, whose family had migrated to expand their business ventures. He was already fitting in like a glove, just another one of the in-crowd, that was all.

"Hey babe," Courtney said, throwing a bit too much acting into her voice.

"Why hello, beautiful," He replied with a more conservative affection.

The kids who noticed them took what they saw at face value, looking on with yearning or jealousy as the young couple walked down the hall, his arm over her shoulder. Other kindred gave subtle signs of respect; they were few and far between, but not nearly as few as they ought to be.

This school was becoming a breeding ground lately, and the unconventional lack of respect for the Masquerade, especially in the case of Ezekiel, was something else his superiors told Alejandro to investigate. It had only taken a day to discern which clan was responsible for the abduction, and while the others were keeping their noses clean around him...he wasn't convinced they were always so innocent.

"I told Heather we'd meet in the lunchyard, she's dying to meet you," Courtney said, still keeping a charming tone in her voice.

"Great, let's go."

Heather Russo was lounging against the wooden lunch table on the edge of the food court, quietly drinking fruit punch out of a thermos. For her sake, it had better be fruit punch. Her thick sunglasses were about the only protection from the daylight she required, basking in the warm glow and watching the boy's football team run laps in the distance. Such fortitude was impressive, even to Alejandro. In comparison, Courtney was wearing a long sleeves and a bandanna over her head, leaning into the shadows of the food court overhang as much as possible. Even he kept in the shade, but this one? She invited the sun into her arms and bent it to its knees.

Heather's posture improved, but she didn't stand when the Ventrue approached. In her defense, she could call it part of the act, just staying casual around her friends. Inside she reveled in the lack of respect to her blood superiors. This one was a Brujah, without a doubt.

"Hey guys," She greeted with a superficial wave. Her voice was filled with smug joy, probably at the thought of being the summoner rather than the summoned. Such would never be the case in private, but here at the school, it was a necessary evil to endure her smirking.

They joined her at the table, and Alejandro even pulled out an apple to better blend in. The crunch was satisfying, though it was tasteless on his tongue. Courtney spoke first, looking around beforehand to make sure their conversation was isolated.

"Well, what do you have?"

"Exactly what you want," Heather replied, taking another swig from the thermos.

"And what is that we want?" Alejandro challenged, taking another mouthful.

"The asses of the Nosferatu who embraced that Ezekiel kid."

He swallowed, "I'm listening."

There it was again. That damned smirk. The attitude coming off this girl was already rubbing Alejandro the wrong way, and he couldn't stop himself from twitching his eyelid. She caught it - probably. It was unusual for him to let something like that out. Just what was going on?

"Well obviously its a big step to just...abduct them, but I know where you can find them."

"Surely you're not demanding a price for that information," Courtney said.

"Of course not, who am I to challenge the divine will of the Camarilla? They're hiding out in the caves near the old summer camp. Homeschool is probably sleeping with cockroaches a few miles away from his family's cabin. How ironic...wouldn't you say?"

"How is it you came across the location of the Nosferatu's nest? Alejandro asked.

"What, you think they're the only ones with spies? Please…"

As if to emphasize this fact, the trio was approached by two blonde girls in a cheerleading outfits, one with an unfortunately placed mole on her cheek, the other with a black eye and one arm wrapped in a cast.

In answer to the question running in his head, Courtney spoke up, "Amy is Heather's ghoul, and Samey is her sister."

"Hey Heather!" the healthier one shouted, waving, meanwhile the impaired twin slouched behind, looking desperately around for any excuse to take another direction. Finding none, she rocked back and forth on her feet as Amy scooted onto the seat beside Heather, resting barely more than an inch away.

"Woo, look at you, hanging with the new kid," Amy went on, teasingly shoving against Heather's arm a bit, "You're so kind. What a boss, am I right?"

Well this just wouldn't do.

"This is a private conversation. Leave," Alejandro said.

The flat command made Amy stop in her tracks and blink a few times. This might be more fun that he thought. She looked to Heather, who was unmoving and quiet. Courtney was smirking, and Samey was looking on a few steps away, half facing the action, and not fully controlling the shock of the moment.

The cheerleader recovered and brushed her hair back with one hand, "You probably don't know cause you're new, but Heather runs this place, and I'm, like, her best friend. Anything you have to say to her, you can tell me. You may be popular, but you're _nothing_ compared to _us_."

"Oops..." Courtney mocked, putting one hand to her mouth and leaning back; Alejandro stepped forward.

"Such little dignitas…" Alejandro said, stepping around the table like a hawk scouting the fields for a rodent, "It would be a shame if she ran her mouth again. Finding a ghoul is such hard work."

Amy's realization dawned slowly; her mouth went wide and she lifted her face to look into his, finding contempt. Before she could say a word, a hand reached over and covered her mouth.

"It won't happen again," Heather promised, turning to Amy, "Will it?"

Amy was confused and a little shocked, and slowly nodded.

"Letting the power of being a ghoul get into your head is a quick way to lose it," Courtney warned, "tell people what you want, but Heather does _not_ run this school. We do."

Amy looked to her master like a baby bird to its mama. Reality was crashing in on her fragile ego, and it was written all over her face. The statement grated on her pride, but Heather nodded in agreement with Courtney's words, removing her hand from Amy's mouth, "Just go. I'll talk with you later."

Amy almost spoke, then closed her mouth and nodded, turning furiously to Samey and bidding her sister to follow. Samey did not comply fast enough, and Amy yanked her good arm behind her as she stormed off. The abused twin gave one last look to the strange new boy, and then trailed after her sibling.

"You say the ugly one is your ghoul...what about her sister?" Alejandro asked.

"Samey? She's harmless," Heather assured, "Even if she wanted to tell people about Kindred, who would believe her? She's been under Amy's thumb since pre-school. And Amy is smart enough to keep her mouth shut."

Alejandro muttered something low in Spanish.

"Back to business," He said when the twins were far enough away, "the Nosferatu are at the summer camp you say? Then tonight, you will accompany us there to meet with their representative. Make any arrangements you need to. Let them know they've been discovered, and the Camarilla agent is coming to pass judgement. I'll be there at nine. Sharp."

"Is this going to put me in the good graces of the Camarilla?"

"Of course," he said.

He turned away and left without another word and Courtney followed him, leaving Heather alone at the table. She took another drink of blood from the thermos. New guy has game. Not unexpected, but more exciting in the flesh than it was in her imagination.

She smiled and shrugged, "Better than things being boring all the time."

* * *

The wasteland that was the beach of the old island camp was strewn over by trash and washed up junk. Heather's canoe lay with idle oars between a mangled tire and the carcass of a seagull wrapped in plastic. A few others lay close by as well. Alejandro and Courtney walked across the dock, while their rowman tied up the boat and awaited their return. A bonfire had been lit just up the first hill on the left. Heather was sitting on a cut log, roasting a marshmallow over the open flames. The graham crackers and chocolate bars were left forgotten in a bag beside her. Three black mush piles lay in the dirt, no doubt once fluffy white treats.

Alejandro took a seat on a log next to her, and Courtney sat beside him. The brujah said nothing at first, but checked her watch and smirked, "You're actually a minute early. They'll be along in just a moment."

The minute passed slowly, and the burning smell wafted up into the air as the squishy treat was charred, but just as she said, a group of kindred approached soon enough. Four walked willingly up the slope, one was bound and tied, dragged along behind like an old west lawmen captured by criminals. The last one was escorted up, his hands on his head, a razor against his throat.

Heather stood and met the victorious vampires, led by a student with a green mohawk, "Good job Duncan. If you ever need a permanent place of service, you're always free to work for me."

In response, Duncan flipped her the bird and walked away, causing the others to follow, and leaving the two Nosferatu, one laying in bondage, the other still afraid to remove his hands from his head.

"This," Heather said, kicking the one on the ground, "Is the offender. Dakota Jenkins was a prominent student a few years ago, and the founder of the beauty club. The local Nosferatu thought it would be funny to embrace her, and she's been the reluctant scum of their clan ever since."

Dakota sniffled in the dirt, and hesitantly looked to Heather and her allies. She had a long and hard fall from grace, still clinging onto her former beauty. Lipstick, mascara, blush, overall a well blended coat of makeup applied to her face, but there was no salvaging her complexion any more. If anything, this is what her sires wanted. If there were room in his heart for it, Alejandro would have pitied the girl.

"Well?" Heather went on, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I-I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'll do anything! Please, have mercy!" Her tears were diluting the makeup, only hurting her appearance more.

"Pathetic, right?" Heather went on, "Well as you can guess, this is Ezekiel. He wasn't a looker before the embrace, but damned if he isn't the ugliest nosferatu you'll ever see. How's unlife treating you, homeschool?"

Ezekiel shook his head, unable to muster words. If the childe was pathetic, his sire was disgusting. The offender sat crying black, mascara-stained tears, watching Alejandro with red eyes and a runny nose.

A demonstration was in order. How severe though? The other Nosferatu were certainly watching from the safety of the shadows, and were primed to see the retribution of the Camarilla.

"Yes, _why_ did you embrace this poor man? That's what I want to know," He said, standing over Dakota, baring his fangs ever so slightly.

"I, I...I don't know, I was angry and he was just there in the open, and...I let my instincts get the better of me I guess. I'm really, really sorry, it will never happen again! Promise!"

"So you can't control yourself? That's your excuse?"

Dakota stumbled across several phrases, finally cry-shouting "It won't happen again! I swear!"

Alejandro picked her up, and snapped the rope bindings with his bare hands. He thought he saw Heather lift an eyebrow. That's right, not all Ventrue are spoiled barons living sheltered lives in ivory towers. He was no sheriff, but he also wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. Watch this one, Heather.

"I believe you," He said smiling, "but...I also like to have certain insurances."

Dakota's grateful smile paused, then slowly turned into an anxious stare, and then a shocked cry of pain and Alejandro slipped a couple razors of his own across her throat. The guilty kindred fell into a pool of her own blood, further smearing her makeup, and dying in messy, choked whispers. They all watched her corpse jerk and leak, and then crinkle away into ash.

Ezekiel was petrified, and fell onto his butt, holding his hands over his face. Truly pathetic.

"Tell your brothers, there is no more embracing without my express permission. If this rule is violated again, I will bring hellfire down on _all_ of you."

Alejandro flicked his hand into the wind, a few droplets of Dakota's blood flying into Ezekiel's face. He quivered in place, and slowly crawled back to the shadows of Nosferatu territory.

Another blackened marshmallow slipped to the dirt, and Heather watched the Camarilla agent leave with Courtney. Times were changing, and it would be an elaborate game to keep herself on top this time.

* * *

"Yeah...that's right. I think he's someone special. He just showed up the other day, out of the blue."

The girl paused and put her hand over the phone. With a quick stride to the window, she checked the blinds, bending one down at her eye level and gazing into the foggy night. Rain had blackened the streets, and the lamps on the sidewalk illuminated the puddles with a white glow.

"I don't know. I'll keep my eye on him though. He's a looker, and he's already up to no good."

She spun and looked down on her bed, the tools of her trade laid out on the pink sheets, recently cleaned and ready for use.

"Yeah...I know. I'll call you if I get in over my head."

The voice on the other side corrected her, "If you get in over your head, you won't have the chance to call me."

The girl nodded, "Understood. I'll be careful. Love you."

The voice was quick and concise: "Bring me the vampire's head."

_Click._

The tone dial buzzed in her ear, and the girl let the phone go, landing softly on the bed. Time to go to work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome back to chapter two. I had some fun with it, figured I would continue, especially as I'm getting inspiration from another playthrough of Bloodlines. Waiting for the sequel is going to be a helluva task, ha ha. Not much else to say I suppose except enjoy!**

* * *

The weekend had come, and that meant freer reign for the vampires attending Wawanakwa High, but also led to certain social rituals that could not be ignored. For Alejandro, attendance at Geoff Hillman's party was a must. He had stepped flawlessly into the circle of popularity and local fame, but such prestige was quick to fade if not attended to.

Honestly, it wasn't something Alejandro minded much.

Playing the political games of both Kindred and Kine was thrilling. One was played at much higher stakes, of course, but the other was challenging in its own way. Ventrue meant nothing to the humans at school. His stature with the in-crowd was constantly in threat, and an unfamiliar rebellion to the big cliques was emerging in new places every day, an occurrence the ruling vampires never found in such...small ways.

Anarchs and Sabbat were one thing, but a skater punk who didn't know you and refused to play nice were quite another. The lack of true meaning made it a game played for fun, rather than true power, and that was something Alejandro didn't know he was looking for until he sat down at the figurative table.

So, smile on his face, he walked into Geoff's house with his arm around Courtney, and headed at once to the other best and brightest at school. Courtney would point out Kindred he was not familiar with, and in the popular crowd, only one could be found.

Justin Vasquez was a poor man's Alejandro. Some would call that arrogance, but it was truth. The Toreador was more mindless than most, and his complexion, while stunning, wasn't so far out of league with Alejandro that it made much of a difference. At just a glance Alejandro could see that Justin's mind worked slower and less efficiently than his own; such was to be expected when one focused too much on the narcissistic games of human ritual.

Heather was there too, talking with Lindsay Demarias, the other Toreador of the inner circle. She was even ditzier than Justin, and seemed to genuinely find Alejandro an object of lust. She had no chance to take him, but he entertained her all the same. A tease here and a meaningless flirt there went quite a long way when all totaled up.

The humans of the popular group included Amy, Topher, Bridgette, Taylor, Leshawna, Brody, and Geoff himself. Altogether they formed a semi-cohesive popular crowd, with certain functionaries dwindling on the edge of entrance, such as Samey or whoever Geoff and Brody deemed funnest to hangout with at the moment.

"Sup Al!" The host greeted, throwing up his hand for a high-five.

"Alejandro," The man in questioned corrected, reluctantly slapping palms with the blonde.

"Haw, yeah, for sure bro, we were, like, just talking about you, dude," Geoff said, throwing his arm over Alejandro's shoulder and handing him a beer as though they'd known each other since kindergarten.

Alejandro accepted, and smiled to the gathered students. This is what made Geoff a central figure, this was a way to play the Kine version of the political game one simply could not play among Kindred. Charm and energy only went so far against status, knowledge, and the collection of favors and secrets you owned. But here, amongst teenagers and the shared enslavement to education and impending adulthood, someone who made everyone feel included and laughed with them, someone who simply existed to make things exciting, could become a king. It was truly remarkable.

"Yeah bro, we're liked stoked to have you here. Courtney especially," Geoff winked to Alejandro's 'girlfriend' and simultaneously elbowed Brody in the arm.

"A pleasure to be here," Alejandro said, "Speaking of which, I brought favors. They're outside in my Lamborghini."

He inwardly smiled. Their faces lit up at the mention of a car not only driven, but owned, by one of their own; he assumed a few others could claim such a treasure, but at the age of seventeen, owning a car (at least one that wasn't a total junker) was tantamount to being royalty.

Geoff and Brody ran to the window, the latter throwing his arms up upon seeing the sparkling red beauty parked on the street, "Whoa! I totally like this dude more than the new chick."

Did he hear that right? It was probably a coincidence, but he turned instinctively to Courtney all the same, "New...chick?"

"Some new girl from out of town. She hangs around a couple of the rejects. Nothing suspicious," Courtney whispered and patted him on the front of the shoulder.

He was privy to information most here were not - in fact, there were things only he was supposed to know. One of them was that Wawanakwa High only accepted a certain number of transfer students per semester. New chick? He was supposed to be the last one until spring. Whatever was her story, and how could she pull strings to get herself into Wawanakwa?

"I'll talk to you more about this later," He whispered back.

Just then, the MC changed the music and the hot new song by R. K. Schaffer came on. Everyone danced, almost everyone at least. Alejandro cared not for dancing, at least nothing so loose and undignified, and walked over to the fold out table draped in a red cloth for a morsel of food.

The cup of fruit punch was as bland and unnoticed as everything else that he ate or drank to maintain the appearance of normalcy. Then he was approached. Someone appeared beside him so suddenly he almost thought she used a discipline. The goth girl waved in a casual manner, and struck up conversation with a voice that sounded more unused than it should for a teenager.

"Hey. I'm Gwen."

"Hello, I'm Alejandro."

"I know, and you're from the Camarilla. I'm here to pay my respects. Haven't seen you walking through school yet."

He flashed a brief smile. It was a nice change of pace for someone to introduce themself to him. When he bowed his head in greeting it was with genuine acknowledgement and respect for her form.

"These are my ghouls, Crimson and Ennui."

Two goths in a red and black color scheme stepped up behind Gwen, bowing in a dramatic fashion, but keeping straight, uninterested faces the entire time. It was just enough of a giveaway to lend him a clue.

"You're a Tremere, I take it?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, I keep them on a long enough leash."

"Good to know. Anyone who violates the Masquerade is in for a bad time. I'm sure you heard about poor Dakota."

Gwen nodded, and held out her hand. Ennui wordlessly scooped a ladle with punch and poured a cup for her. She drank half of it in one gulp, then set the cup back on the table.

"Actually, I'd like to know one thing about that."

Alejandro tilted his head, "Certainly."

"You didn't kill her because of the violation, did you? Nobody killed the guy who embraced her."

"There are too many Kindred here to risk exposure. The entire budding infrastructure of the area would collapse if she were caught, and I'm sure you can imagine how quickly things would fall to pieces after that. Of course I did it because of the abduction."

"Okay, give me the political answer. Say what you want, you're here to thin the herd, aren't you, Archon? And that must mean the true goal is much more devious. Am I right?"

Alejandro lifted an eyebrow; was she trying to get on his bad side? And more importantly, did she come to think this by herself, or did she have little birds chirping in her ears? Hell, something out of the blue like that could be a Malkavian's rambling.

Gwen stifled a laugh, "Alright, you don't have to answer. I think I have what I want. Just know that the Camarilla's presence here won't be tolerated in silence for too long."

"Courtney talks about Wawanakwa as though the factions get along perfectly well."

"We play nice, and some of us let her think that her ivory masters have the say so around here, but you'd be a fool to think this city is actually Camarilla territory. Or anyone's...yet."

"Bold of you to say," He admitted, taking a quick shot of punch himself.

"My point is, if the Camarilla is going to make a move, you better make it fast."

"Do you stand with us?"

Gwen looked away and left the question hanging for a minute. It was completely fair, but also very deep. Dangerous, even. In a place without an authoritarian from any one faction, your allegiances could be as impressionable as sand. Not everyone liked that.

"Things could get messy, not that you really care. Other agents pursuing different interests won't wait around for you to do something. They'll strike first, and even though I don't trust you...I trust some others less."

"The Camarilla only wishes to keep Kindred safe, and our interests secure."

"If only _your_ interests weren't so hands on about _our_ interests."

"Funny of you to say something like that," he replied, folding his arms and motioning to Crimson and Ennui with his head.

Gwen looked to her ghouls and then back at him. Without anything further to say, she turned and made her exit.

"Good seeing you, Alejandro."

She walked away with her puppets always a perfect step behind her. She had stones, he would give her that much. And her willingness to come forward with that warning, however droll, was telling of the kind of kindred she was. Another player sat down at the table, and the stakes had been raised accordingly.

* * *

The apartment his superiors had secured for his use was a little above standards, but it was a well situated domain. The third (and top) floor was almost entirely his own, with only four rooms, of which two others were being renovated. The last was at the very end of the hallway, and his own right beside the elevator.

The room itself was spacious enough for a bed, dresser, closet, television set, nightstand, and in the middle of it all, a dull green rug on the brown carpet. The bathroom was little more than a tub, toilet, and sink, but at least it was its own room.

His laptop rested on the bed, facing away from the windows.

The intruder brought it to life with a touch, but it was protected behind a password. She tried the known codes she had collected over time, none of them accepted. That meant it was time to hack, but that posed a problem: namely, she wasn't a very good hacker, and if her sources were accurate, he was backed by powerful friends, some of whom invested heavily in modern technology.

And so, the recourse was to either copy the hard drive, which was time consuming, or steal the whole thing. She slipped the computer into her satchel and poked into the bathroom. Nothing stood out to her, except that the mirror was cracked through the middle.

She found no clothes in the closet or dresser, and the remote to the television was sitting and gathering dust on the nightstand. Even the bed hardly looked used. When the last of it had had been scanned over, she went back to her satchel, and opened the second zipper, drawing two bundled packages, a roll of wire, and small box.

The bundles were placed on both sides of the door, the wire cut within an inch of perfection, and the triggering mechanisms applied. When she closed the door, it would be the end of the next person to open it. With a wide berth she stepped over the wire, and came face to face with her mark.

Wordlessly the vampire threw her into the room. She flew all the way into the TV set opposite the doorway. He inspected her work, kicking the wire in half on his way in. She made to one knee amongst the broken glass when he used his supernatural speed to close the gap.

"Very impolite," He said, grabbing her by the throat.

He reached to peel off the ski mask covering her identity, but she drew a pistol from behind her jacket, and aimed it at his heart. Another throw kept him safe while launching her into the dresser.

"I must assume you know who I am, given the great lengths you've gone to," He said, slapping her on the back of the head so hard she fell to her stomach. He hovered his booted foot over her back and waited until she just began to lift herself off the ground.

The gasping sound when he crushed the air out of her was very satisfying. He reached down, not touching the gun, but grabbing her hand, and snapping it backwards.

"Not smart," he mocked, doing the same to her other hand, "Not smart at all."

He let all his weight settle onto her back for a moment, then walked off her and inspected the room. His laptop was gone.

Alejandro turned his eyes back on the hunter turned prey. Who sent her? Why him in particular? What secrets was she after? All questions that were valid to ask, but the first had to be…

"How much suffering do you intend to endure? I can make your demise quick you know. Or…" She looked at him frightfully as he bared his fangs and reached for her mask, "I can make it last for an eternity!"

His claws left her face with bleeding stripes, and the ski mask lay in tatters below her. The girl was nobody he was familiar with.

"What's your name?"

The bleeding girl looked up at him and managed to slump into a sitting position against the dresser, looking at the floor.

"Sanders," She answered in a hollow tone.

"Why are you here, Sanders?"

"To steal your information, and leave you dead by tomorrow night."

If he hadn't come back when he did...well, she might have gotten away with it. A thought he put away, and was thankful he could do so.

"Why?"

She shrugged, "What do you mean why? This is what I do. I thought I was damn good at it."

He saw her eye the gun, then look at the helpless appendages that were her hands. Every now and then her thumb would twitch involuntarily, but she had no control over them anymore.

"Do you serve a god? Are you here for some holy crusade?"

She looked up at him, confused, "I was paid to do this. Employer said you were a scumbag street rapist working for scumbag money-grubbing corporations. Keeping the little people down wasn't enough for you...said you liked to make the girls cry."

He curled his fingers into the skin of his hands, doing his best not to draw blood. What a wretched accusation. Not that he cared about the well being of kine more than he did of wild animals, but to call someone of his ancestry a thug? A street rapist?

Anger flowed into his next move, and he allowed it so, grabbing her by the throat again, letting his claws sink into her flesh, holding back the compressing force that begged to squeeze so hard her head popped off. He managed at an effort.

"I don't know who could be so misinformed, but-"

He stopped short and let go of her. A red dot appeared on his chest and before he knew it, he was thrown back beside the bed. A bullet hole tore through his chest, right next to his shoulder. If the sniper were more accurate, it would have gone through his heart.

A partner?

The dot lined up with his chest again, and he rolled forward, catching Sanders' eyes, the smug look in them infuriating him all the more. She was going to die, with certainty, but right now he was looking more and more like the prey again, run afoul of some unseen hunter.

He stood and took a single, running step towards the bathroom when he heard another shot go off. The room heated and he saw the orange glow just before he felt the fiery blast that launched him off his feet.

* * *

_"Authorities exhumed one body from the apartment, badly burned. The victim was, according to the official report, a terrorist, who met an abrupt end while creating explosives. The apartment was rented in the name of one Jose Burromuerto, but the corpse is that of a female, and Jose himself has not not been found. Authorities question if Jose even exists at all, as the room was booked digitally, and there are no cameras on the premises to confirm the occupants identity. For continuing coverage, keep tuning in to channel seven news. I'm Chris-"_

The television shut off.

The bar had cleared out, save for one patron. Manitoba Smith checked the clock and exhaled. Some Kindred still preferred to sleep during the day. Not this one. Amidst the lumber and decorations fitting the Outback theme for which his establishment was named, one man stood out more than any of this other customers. The green mohawk approached and took a seat at the bar, in the corner where he could recline against the wall.

Duncan lit a cigarette and kicked his feet up, "Crazy shit happening lately, huh?"

"Does that do anything for ya?"

The smoke didn't bother him, he didn't know for the life of him why he asked. He could just ask Duncan to leave, but then he would be in for a hard time. Inwardly he sighed again and resigned to strike up a conversation. Maybe something would come of it after all.

Duncan shrugged, "Eh. Force of habit more than anything else."

Manitoba nodded, adjusting his hat, "You think they got him?"

"Doesn't matter. Some other jackass with a stick up his butt and a golden tower in his eyes will come along sooner or later."

"Nothing lasts forever. Especially the good stuff."

"Nothing except us," Duncan frowned.

"Isn't that all the more reason to pick a side?"

Duncan exhaled smoke and scratched his neck, "I don't play well with others."

"Offers always on the table, mate. I betcha someone's gonna come to ya with another offer one day. Might not be as easy as ours."

"Been around the block for a while. Nobody's gotten me roped into their war yet, and nobody's ever going to."

Manitoba smiled and poured him another glass of blood, type A, just like he liked it. The mohawk warrior flipped a coin to the bartender, and grabbed the drink off the bar. Just then the doors of the _Outback_ swung open. Heather entered with wide eyes.

"Have you seen the news? This is a disaster!"

"Sure have," Manitoba said, taking out a cleaning rag.

"Damn shame," Duncan agreed, downing the glass of red nectar.

"Wha-Are you series? Do you not realize what this means?"

"Figured you wanted Alejandro gone ASAP, what gives?" Duncan said, sliding the glass back to Manitoba.

"Yes, I wanted him gone. My way! This is sloppy. Brash. This won't go unpunished! If I find the idiot who did this-"

"How do you know I didn't do it?"

Heather rolled her eyes, "Please! You don't do anything without assurance of instant gratification. Not after I've burned you into all those favors."

Now it was Duncan's turn to roll his eyes and frown.

"Besides," Heather went on, "You can play dumb, but someone as old as you would know this was a stupid plan."

It was true. This was rash thinking. Any Kindred worth their blood who wanted to keep Wawanakwa as untangled as possible would have gone about assassinating a Camarilla agent much softer and much quieter. So either the culprit was stupid, or new. Or both. There were a few different names that fit that description, and none of them were here. Morning was drawing on. It would be time to make social appearances soon. Whatever, she would have to call in sick today. Sometimes she even wondered why Kindred flocked to that school. Knowing what she did now, Heather would give anything to have avoided enrolling when she found her way here.

She stomped her foot and growled, "If you see or hear anything, let me know. Who knows, I might just owe you one for once."

Duncan grunted confirmation, and flicked another coin to Manitoba, who poured another glass.

Without further adieu, she turned and headed back into the gray morning, leaving the two men alone again.

Duncan put the cigarette back to his mouth, inhaling for a few seconds, then snuffing it out. Manitoba continued to clean out glasses, and the early morning went on outside as the rain clouds gathered.


End file.
